Ghazal - Faiz Ahmed Faiz
Punishments & tortures to the heart, I gave myself.
Abandonment of her memory I permitted myself.
Each and every flower I fondly recalled when That flowery branch I torched by myself.
All that causes her to blush even today, All those quirks I have forgotten myself.
The city was populated with ashes when The heart’s blaze I extinguished by myself.
Today her memory haunted me a lot. Today in her memory, I prayed myself.
There was surely something about her, Faiz, Because for her pleasure, I even squandered myself.
Translated from the Urdu, to continue this Faiz Wednesday. This Faiz's ghazal should be read in conjuntion with Derek Walcott's "Love After Love".
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Ghazal - Faiz Ahmed Faiz
Some clouds arrived, some wine arrived.
Afterwards what punishments arrived!
From heaven’s terrace as moonlight climbed down, In the beloved cup bearer’s hands, sunlight arrived.
In every vein sheet lightning, When she, unveiled, arrived.
He was counting his mundane sorrows When her uncountable memories arrived.
It hadn’t lifted, your wounding tyranny, When in this heart new revolutions arrived.
This silence reverberates so, that it appears As if from every direction answers have arrived.
Faiz, that path lead to some alternate destination Yet whatever place you finally reached, you arrived.
Translated from the Urdu
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Calm Has Come - Faiz Ahmed Faiz
Calm has come with a harvest of silence, you with torn collars
Lips have been stitched tight, even though wounds may or may not have
Friends, come decorate this measly feast for spring is here
And wounds have blossomed, even though flowers may or may not have
Translated from the Urdu. This is the orginial:
aa gayii fasl-e-sukuuN chaak girebaaN waaloN sil gaye hoNth ko’ii zakhm sile yaa na sile dostoN bazm sajaao ke bahaar aayii hai khil gaye zakhm ko’ii phuul khile yaa na khile
and this is Agha Shahid Ali's translation from "The Rebel’s Silhouette"
You who wear shirts ripped at the collars:
it has come: the great calm with its harvest of silence
all lips have been sewn, perhaps some wounds also.
And rebels, my friends:
fill your vases with water for spring is here:
in this blossoming of wounds,
some roses may also.
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